And Ehud reached with his left hand, took the sword from his right thigh, and thrust it into his belly. And the hilt also went in after the blade, and the fat closed over the blade, for he did not pull the sword out of his belly; and the dung came out.

Well, if the LORD always made everything perfectly clear, there would be no point in faith, would there? The whining goes on and on. It almost sounds like a little bee, crying for help. The house feels wrong today, as if in the night someone moved everything an inch to the left for a prank.

Someone starts talking in the living room so I guess Ted left the TV on for me.

“We should revisit trauma,” the voice is saying. “You know what they say. The only way out is through. Childhood abuse must be excavated and brought into the light.”

Maybe the whining sound is coming from the TV. I have checked the TV before, oh, hundreds of times. But I have to do something. The big Russian doll stares at me from the mantelpiece with its blank face, its round body. It looks happier than ever to have prisoned its little friends inside it. The Parents stare down from their horrible frame above the fireplace. Go away, I whisper at them, but they never do.

When I see who’s on screen, I stop, ears flat. Him again. The round blue eyes stare out. He nods earnestly at some unheard question. The room is filled with that scent—spoiled milk and dust. I know he’s only a picture on a screen but it feels like he’s here, somehow. I sit down neatly and lick a paw. That always makes me feel better. I could do this show so much better than you, I tell him. You have no charisma.

He smiles as if in answer. I don’t feel like talking to him anymore after that. I don’t know why—it’s not like the TV can hear me. Can it? The smell is so strong, though. It’s not like a ted smell, but like something left out of the refrigerator for too long.

And then, from the hall, I hear it. The tiny faint sounds of someone standing outside the front door. I pad over to it silently. I can sense someone behind. A male ted. He’s not knocking, he’s not ringing the doorbell. So what is he doing? And the reek is everywhere, seeping in around the door, invading my sensitive nose. It’s the same smell that came off the TV. Somehow, the ted from the TV is also outside my house. The show must be pre-recorded.